Undiscovered Feelings
by OvertheMoon
Summary: Post-Rent- mimi and roger r havin issues, and for once mark doesnt seem to be helping **UPDATED 6/1**
1. Mimi

A/N: ok this is my first fanfic so read and review please! I'm still new at this

DISCLAIMER: These characters belong to the great Jonathon Larson.

*MIMI POV*

"I HATE YOU!" "WELL I HATE YOU TOO!" The door slams. AGAIN. 

Ugh. Our lives are becoming a friggin routine. I wake up in Roger's arms, perfectly content after a great night with him. We get up and eat breakfast, which consists of whatever I picked up on my way home from the club. Usually it's fruit or cereal. Roger's parents gave him a microwave for his birthday (they must've run out of ideas) so I'd get frozen waffles or something but I hate the frozen food aisle. It's so cold! Skintight pants and a low cut top do not work for that aisle. Plus for some reason it seems that all the bachelors in New York City seem to congregate there. I've been hit on one too many times to know better than go in that section of the grocery store. 

Then, after breakfast, we cuddle and talk aimlessly about nothing and everything at the same time. It's the best part of our relationship. It's like the entire world disappears and it's just Roger and I, the immortal and perfect couple. Too bad it doesn't last. One of us always gets mad about some comment which leads to a "heated discussion," as Mark likes to call it. We yell insults at each other that we know we'll regret, which leads to me hurling something across the room at him, pathetically missing, and him storms out, never failing to slam the door as hard as he can. I'm amazed my door hasn't come off its hinges yet. 

I'm starting to get sick of this. Any other guy, and I would've been long gone by now. But he's not just any guy. He's Roger. My sexy, bleach blonde, guitar-playing Roger. And I'm "his Mimi," as he says. I love him with all my heart, I really do. But something in the back of my head tells me this isn't how a relationship should be. 

As I pick up the picture frame I chucked at him, I cut my hand. Well this is just _great._ And we ran out of Band-Aids yesterday when Roger tripped over my stereo and got a huge splinter stuck in his hand. I look down at the picture I'm holding. It was of the good times. After Santa Fe, after Angel died, after my near-death experience. We all were genuinely happy. I mean we never forgot that one Christmas and New Years, but our lives were getting better. Collins was beginning to move on, Joanne and Maureen were together for the time being, Mark had made some money on a film, and Roger and I hadn't fought in two weeks. The picture was from Roger's birthday. He was sitting on the couch, wearing one of those stupid cone hats and grinning like an idiot. I, sitting on his lap, was making kissing faces at the camera. Maureen was in the process of smacking Mark's butt, who was standing in front of her after setting the camera to take the picture in twenty seconds. Joanne was glaring at Maureen, and Collins was just smiling at the camera like a normal person. Those were great times back then. I wish I could rewind time and help everyone treasure them. Tell Maureen that Joanne wasn't going to put up with her flirtatious tendencies much longer. Warn Mark that sometimes companies don't have the same thing in mind as you. Hold on to Roger, just soaking up the love that poured out of him. 

But I cant go back. "No day but today" I mutter to myself. I need to clean up this mess of broken glass and my finger. Time for a visit to good ol' Mark upstairs.


	2. Marky

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Sorry this took so long but ive been really busy and I had a little bit of writers block…please review!

*MARK POV*

I miss having money. Yea my job was against everything I stood for, but knowing I could pay the rent every month was a comforting thought. I even considered moving out of the loft. That idea was squashed real quick though. It has too many memories within its walls. Probably too many. Heck the wall in the bathroom was still tinted red from April's suicide, no matter how much spray paint we put over it. But it wasn't just being able to pay the rent. I was able to get Roger something great for his birthday. I took everyone out to dinner to celebrate his band's big public gig. I could pay for new equipment for my camera. I could've even bought a new camera. Not that I wanted to. Too bad money doesn't make you happy. The company wasn't interested in my works. They only wanted a guy who could do good documentaries. 

It all started when a representative of KZTB came over to me after one of Roger's gigs. He said he saw me filming and was wondering if I would consider doing documentaries for the company. I was ecstatic. Filming was my life! What would be a better job than doing what I love? But they didn't want to do stuff on life. My first assignment was to do a documentary on some guy that died…Mr. Benvenolioitchy or something like that. Some benevolent god of the big city or something. I didn't care about some old dead good guy that lived in a flat the size of the state of Texas his entire life! I wanted to film real life. So I went and complained to the boss. I asked if he could assign someone else for the job and maybe I could do a documentary on people struggling with AIDS or something. He just gave me this look like I was crazy. Told me that the community didn't care about dying bohemians and that I better get started on this project before he fired me. So I said screw dead Mr. Benvenoliobob I quit and stormed out. It was one of the better moments of my life. 

So I'm back to Captain Crunch every morning for breakfast and filming what I want to film. I never thought I'd miss it so much. I even missed being woken up by Roger and Mimi screaming at each other. I don't even need an alarm clock they're so loud. And they fight over the stupidest stuff too! Like Mimi being home early from Cat Scratch…or Roger eating a bagel instead of oatmeal. And one of them always ends up coming up here for advice. Like I can solve their problems. But I try, and usually everything works out. 

Today I think it started because Roger left his shoe on the floor. I think if there was nothing to fight about they'd still yell at each other. I have no clue why they're still together. I mean yea I tell them all that stuff about how they were made for each other and to just hold on that they'll work everything out, but I don't believe it and I don't think they do either. 

So I sit at the kitchen table, cleaning the lens of my camera just waiting for one of them to come knock on the door and ask if I "have a minute." 

And there's the knock on the door.


	3. Mimikins

Disclaimer: unfortunately not mine…belong to the late great Jonathon Larson

A/N: thanks for the reviews!! Sorry this has taken sooo long ive been extremely busy u have no idea.

*MIMI POV*

God I love Mark. He's such a sweetheart. Seriously you could like sell him in a box for Valentine's Day. He's so understanding, and adorable and…yea. I knocked on the door, and less than five seconds later he opens the door. He just looks at me and opens his arms for a hug. I don't even have to say anything. Of course he probably heard the entire conversation through the floor…our yells tend to echo throughout the entire building. I just smile at him and hug him, making sure not to get my bloody hand on him.

Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if he had opened the door that night instead of Roger. Then I realize that I probably would've met Roger through Mark, fallen in love with him, and we'd be in the same spot that we are now. I love Mark to death, but he's just not Roger. Not that its necessarily a bad thing…Mark pulled away from me, interrupting my thoughts. 

"So how did it start today? Roger's shoe on the floor?" he asked mockingly.

"It smelled bad, and I tripped over it in my heels," I said, putting on my best pout. He looked down at my shoes and I wiggled my six-inch heels at him.

"Sounds like a good reason to me." he commented. He took my hand and examined the cut while making sure not to touch the blood. "How'd this happen? You throw a mirror at him or something?"

"A picture frame. I went to pick up the pieces and I cut myself. We don't have any more Band-Aids," I explained.

"There are a bunch in the bathroom. Go grab one and I'll make us some hot chocolate."

"What happened to your tea addiction?" I asked while searching for the Band-Aids. Ah ha! They were hidden under the aftershave. Wait…Mark wears aftershave?!

"They had a hot chocolate machine at the office. I drank about five cups a day to keep me awake, and I got hooked. It's a lot sweeter than tea and I like the taste better." I put the Band-Aid on the cut, grabbed the aftershave and walked out of the bathroom.

"Mark Cohen, since when do you wear aftershave?!" He turned bright pink.

"I had to wear it for work."

"Uh huh, I'm sure your boss _made _you buy it."

"He did!"

"Right. Sure. Whatever." I turned around and put it back on the counter.

"Don't tell anybody, please Mimi? I'll never hear the end of it."

"Hmmm…" I tried to keep a straight face, but he was pouting. Its not possible to be mad at Mark when he's pouting. "Alright, I won't. But I better not ever catch you wearing this."

"I promise," he replied, and handed me the hot cocoa.


	4. Mark

Disclaimer: Jonathon Larson's genius invention

A/N: Sorry its been taking me so long!! Ill try harder next time

*MARK POV*

I had completely forgotten about that aftershave. On the first day of work I had been informed that aftershave was considered a "requirement." I hated it. It smelled weird and felt gross on my skin. After I quit I vowed to never wear it again, and I haven't. I hoped that no one would find it. I mean if Roger discovered it, he would never let me forget it. It was embarrassing enough having Mimi discover it, but at least she was sweet and "promised" not to tell anyone…thought I'm sure she will.

She's so great. Roger's such a lucky guy to have her, and yet they can't carry on a conversation for fifteen minutes without screaming at each other. Every once in awhile I wonder what would've happened if I opened the door instead of Roger that night. But Mimi would've met Roger, they would've fallen in love, and I'd be where I am today, the third wheel.

"So…what have you been up to?" she asked. I took a sip of my hot chocolate.

"Just cleaning my camera. I haven't even eaten breakfast yet. You guys started earlier than usual this morning. Most times I can eat and then film the walls shaking from your screams, and then wait for one of you to come up here."

"Are we really that loud?" I just nodded. "I'm so sorry, Mark. We don't mean to throw you in the middle of this. It's just…well you know Roger like the back of your hand and he, and I, trust you."

"Like the back of my hand? I don't know it _that _well," I said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Sure you do. Here, lemme see." She took my right hand and covered it with her own. "Now, tell me about your hand."

"Tell you about my hand?!" 

"Just do it!"

"Ok….uhh I have this mole on my knuckle…Roger's always threatening to cut it off while I'm sleeping."

"Anything else?"

"I have a scar on the back of my thumb from when I fell attempting to play basketball in high school during PE…why?"

"See?! I told you! You know the back of your own hand really well!" I just stared at her in disbelief.

"You're a nut Mimi, you know that?" I started laughing, and she began, and soon enough I couldn't breathe I was laughing so hard. All of a sudden we realized how stupid it was, and we both stopped laughing. I cleared my throat and looked down at my hand. She was still holding it. I glanced back up at her, and she was looking at it too. I had this weird feeling in my stomach when I looked at her…it made me uncomfortable, and she could tell. Her eyes met mine, and we quickly pulled our hands away and I stared at the floor. It was a strange moment. I've never, ever, in my entire life, had an awkward moment with Mimi. Yet somehow we had managed it. 

"I better get--" we both started at the same time. She gave a weak laugh and said, "I better get back downstairs. Roger will be home soon." I nodded. 

"I'll talk to you later," I said.

"Bye Marky," and she walked out the door. 


	5. Meems

A/N: wow…long time delay!! Sorry!! School + shows + overprotective parents = no time. thanks for reading this! Thanks to Markygurl for finally getting me to update. Please read and review  
  
DISCLAIMER:  
  
*MIMI POV*  
  
As I walked back down the stairs, I shut my eyes and tried to recapture what had just happened. I held his hand, he called me a nut, we laughed, realized I was holding his hand, and then had an awkward moment. No big deal…right? Roger would have just stared at us in disbelief and then rolled his eyes at the idiocy…but it was nice to laugh. I haven't laughed in awhile. Roger doesn't seem to appreciate my sense of humor. But it wasn't the laughter that bothered me…it was that awkward moment. Mark and I don't have awkward moments. We just don't. We're best friends trying to survive in this insane city of New York. No awkward moments allowed. And yet it happened. I had that weird feeling inside. When I looked into those deep, gorgeous, ocean blue ey--   
  
I stopped myself right there. It didn't matter anyway. Roger has the sexiest eyes of anyone I know.  
  
The sound of feet tramping up the stairs brought me out of my thoughts. I watched Roger come into sight, his pajama pants getting too small for him. I really need to stop shrinking them, even if it is an accident…although they do accent those fine legs.  
  
He slowly approached me, avoiding all eye contact. "Look, Mimi," he ran his hand through his hair, "I didn't mean to leave my shoe out on the floor…Ill put it away next time, k?" He slowly looked up, staring into my eyes. I couldn't help but melt.  
  
"You promise?"  
  
"I Promise"  
  
"And no stinky socks either?"  
  
"And no stinky -- hey! My socks are NOT stinky!" He grinned, and I grinned back. We hugged for a minute before he pulled me inside so we could make up properly.  
  
As I lay in bed awake that night, my thoughts kept drifting back to that moment with Mark. How I had laughed so hard that I was having trouble breathing…how, for a moment, my issues with Roger seemed to disappear.  
  
"Roger?"  
  
"mm?"  
  
"Tell me a joke"  
  
"A joke?"  
  
"Yea…a clean joke"  
  
"Mimi…my name is Roger Davis. I don't know any clean jokes"  
  
"None?"  
  
"Except for that stupid chicken crossing the road one"  
  
I sighed. He rolled over.  
  
"What's wrong baby?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Come on don't pull that with me"  
  
"Nothing's wrong"  
  
"Mimi…"  
  
"NOTHING'S WRONG!"  
  
"WHY DON'T YOU TELL ME ANYTHING ANYMORE?!"  
  
"WHY AREN'T YOU MORE CONSIDERATE OF OTHER'S FEELINGS?!"  
  
I don't know how long we fought. Could have been an hour. Could have been fifteen minutes. But as I stood there, fighting back that awful urge to fall to the floor sobbing, I realized one thing. I was not going to be the one left alone in the apartment. Not this time. I wasn't going to be the one watching the door slam. So I ran, before he could. I ran to the only place I could think of. Straight upstairs, and right into Mark's open arms. 


	6. Markikins

A/N: I wrote about four chapters over the last few days…I can't seem to stop writing!! Please read and review!

~*Mark POV*~

Its pathetic how easily I can predict them. Well, not necessarily predict. I knew one of them was going to come up here. I was just hoping it was going to be Mimi. Even as I held her close to me, whispering in her ear that everything was going to be okay, I found it hard to hide my ecstasy that she had to run to me. 

But why was I so happy? Of course she was going to run to me. I'm her only friend within two miles of their apartment. I was just the easiest escape. It's not like she hadn't run to me before, either. I really needed to stop thinking so much.

Her sobs finally subsided, and she looked up at me. I never realized how deep her eyes were. Roger was right. You could get lost in them.

She rested her face back on my chest. I could hear a muffled "thanks" come from her.

"No problem Mimikins."

She pulled away and looked at my shirt.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"I don't mind Mimi, really. Whenever you need m-" Her finger rested on my lips. She pointed at my shirt.

"I ruined your shirt." I looked down. My new white shirt was covered in eyeliner and makeup. I pulled it off and tossed it aside, then hugged her to me again.

"Eh, it was old anyway," I lied.

"Liar."

"You're more important than a stupid shirt, Mimi." There was a long lapse of silence.

"You are really warm," she commented.

"Well my blubber tends to insulate me."

"You don't have blubber…"

"Yea I do…look at me. I'm a fatty." I pinched my stomach, which in reality had no fat at all. I could hardly grab some to pinch.

"I have more blubber than you."

"Nu uh."

She sniffled and pulled up her tight tank top to reveal extremely fit abs. She tried to grab a part, but just couldn't do it. I smiled. I would have made some witty comment about being walruses or something, but I couldn't stop staring at her.

She looked up at me. 

"Mark?" She sniffled again.

"Yea Meems?" 

"Can I stay here tonight?"

"Of course…you can take the bed and I'll sleep on the couch."

"Actually…could we sleep in the same bed? I just don't like sleeping alone."

"As long as you don't mind me sleeping half-nakie then I'm fine with it." 

"I don't mind."

"Okay." She stepped forward and lay her head on my chest. Instinctively I wrapped my arms around her waist.

"Thank you for always being here for me."

"Thank you for needing me." I hugger her tight. "Now why don't you go take a shower, and I'll try to wash the makeup off my chest." She looked up and saw my mascara covered chest and giggled.

"You can be my new makeup remover." I smiled.

"If that's what you need me for, I'm here." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek.

"Now how bout that shower, Mimi?"

"A shower would be great, thanks."

I watched her walk into the bathroom and close the door. I was so enamored with her that I didn't even hear the phone ringing off the hook. Roger never left a message.


End file.
